Care To Share A Bed On A Cold Night?
by freak.in.life
Summary: Sherlock and John get booked in a hotel with only one bed on a chilly night. Sherlock decides to 'experiment'. Smut ensues.


After sending my friend Clara the last fanfic I did, she requested Johnlock smut, which I happily gave. I'm trying a new writing style than I normally do with these fics, and it seems to be working well. I'll leave you to your smut! =3

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Care To Share A Bed On A Cold Night?

"Oh my god-," John groaned in annoyance as he entered the hotel room that he'll be sharing with the world's only consulting detective for the next few days. The two were called upon by Lestrade to help a friend in America. They ended up taking a flight - courtesy of Mycroft - to a small town in Washington. The DI had booked their room for them (He stayed at a friend's house.), but he must have failed to mention that they needed double beds.

Sherlock appeared behind his blogger, peering over his shoulder to see what caused his only friend such distress. A small smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed the single queen bed in the center of the room. Gently pushing John out of the way, Sherlock stepped in.

"I asked the manager when you went over to hit on some girl - who's a lesbian, by the way - about the room. She said that all of their rooms with multiple beds were either booked or currently in use. I guess we'll have to share."

The man was lying through his teeth, of course. He never asked anything and only learned of the bed situation just now. This would be an interesting experiment. He knew of John's attraction to him, even though the man refuses to admit it, and was curious if he could push him into admitting it.

Or how annoyed and adorably flustered he could get him.

That would work too.

John sighed, stepping in and looking around. It was a simple, yet fairly clean looking, hotel room. There was a closet by the door and a nightstand on either side of the previously mentioned _single_ bed. There was also a dresser with a tv on top and a door leading to the bathroom in the far corner next to the window. There wasn't even a bloody chair to sit on!

With an annoyed huff, John placed his suitcase next to the dresser and quickly put his clothes inside, only using two drawers, leaving Sherlock with four, which he would probably only use one of.

As it was already quite late - almost eleven o'clock - John slipped into the bathroom to place his necessities down and change into his pajamas, not bothering with a shower, as he decided to take one in the morning.

"I'm going to go to bed."

With that, the blogger slipped under the smooth sheets, shivering slightly from the cold sheets and the fact that the heat in the hotel wasn't doing too well, letting a decent portion of the 22°F weather into the rooms. Even though he wanted to bundle up under the blankets and make a warm nest, John made sure to only take up half of the bed, leaving room for Sherlock, if the sociopath decided to sleep.

Secretly, the blonde man hoped that this was one of Sherlock's many all-nighters. He would prefer not to wake up grinding himself into his friend, thank you very much. But, as always, luck was not on his side.

A few minutes later, the consulting detective padded over to the bed, lifted up the sheets, and slid in. John's back was facing him, so the only indication he got that the man noticed his presence was the fact that he shifted slightly as to not slide into the indent made by the curly-haired man.

Sherlock quickly noted that his blogger was, in fact, cold. Cold enough to shiver a bit, at that. Deciding to start the experiment that was not in any way an excuse to cuddle with the soldier and maybe get in his pants, he slid over and spooned the shorter man.

John gasped, not expecting the sudden warmth, which sent a shiver down his spine. A smirk tugged at Sherlock's lips at the response, nuzzling gently into the short blonde locks beneath his chin.

"Sh-Sherlock...? What are you doing?"

A bit of warmth spread through the taller man at the shake in the other's voice.

"You were cold, so I'm warming you."

Silence fell, leaving Sherlock to listen to the slightly strained breathing of his 'partner'. From what he could see of the man in his arms, it was pretty easy to deduce that John was at least slightly aroused. Time to change 'slightly' to 'painfully' and 'desperately'.

With an 'accidental' slip of his arm, Sherlock's hand fell and cupped loosely around John's now hardening member, earning a gasp and muffled moan.

"Sherlock! What on earth are you doing? Sto-aaaahhh..."

The blogger's protests quickly turned to a moan when Sherlock's hand firmly pressed into John quickly growing arousal. Encouraged by the noise, the detective pressed harder and started rubbing small circles with his palm, giving sweet, sweet friction to John.

"See? Warmer already."

As if to prove his point, Sherlock leaned down to lick a stripe against the nape of John's now sweating neck, causing the smaller man to moan and buck into his soon-to-be lover's hand, who can feel the sticky fluid leaking from the blogger's prick start to soak through his trousers.

"Sherlock...gah...w-wait...hah...pl-pleaaaaaahhhhhhhhh..."

Sherlock was now slightly annoyed as to why the object of his extremely rarely given affection was now wanted him to stop. Of course, a brilliant mind such as his easily came up with a way to please them both. Taking his hand off of John's hardness, which earned a half-whine-half-sigh, Sherlock quickly lifted the other and pulled John onto his back. Now straddling the panting man, Sherlock got a good look at how disheveled he made his lover by only using a small amount of pleasure. The mere thought of the noises he would be able to pull out of the man made Sherlock growl, before leaning down to kiss and lick at John's throat directly on a pulse point.

After reveling in a few more pants and gasps, Sherlock pulled back to see just what his John wanted.

"...What were you trying to say?"

It took all of his fine-tuned self-control to not ravish the older man right then and there.

"I...I don't...ah fuck it!"

After the short struggle to push past his desire, John just gave in and pulled Sherlock into a bruising kiss. Pleased with the compliance, the taller man easily took control, which would have surprised John, considering who had more experience, if he were writhing in pleasure as Sherlock..._oohhhhhh_...slid his hand under the waistband of his underwear, stroking his length in long, languid strokes.

John suddenly _needed _to have the wretched clothes out of the way. Carefully pulling Sherlock off of his neck, where there were sure to be love marks, John started unbuttoning the purple shirt of sex, as he referred to it in his head, while the other man's eyes bore into him with passion that he didn't know anyone could possess.

With the shirt gone, John adjusted slightly to be able to touch the creamy chest better. In the process, he 'accidentally' ground his hips into Sherlock's, loud moans emanating from both throats. That along with calloused hand rubbing across his torso and John's flustered yet wicked smirk broke Sherlock's self-control.

Before John could realized what he did or what was happening, both sets of clothes had been practically torn off and currently lay in a wrinkled heap on the floor. With both bodies bare, the skin-on-skin contact from their hips to their chest caused John to cry out. Sherlock growled, bucking into his love's hardness before grudgingly breaking some contact to pull a complimentary mini bottle of lotion from the nightstand.

Popping open the top, he quickly lathered his first three fingers in it before setting it back down and sliding down John's body. As he moved down, kisses, sucks, nips, and licks peppered the smaller man's body. As John whimpered and writhed, Sherlock gave a small lap of his tongue to the man's slit, earning a broken cry. While slowly and torturously pleasuring John's shaft, Sherlock placed his lubricated middle finger against the blogger's puckered hole, slowly pushing in.

John's whimpers of mixed pain and pleasure turned to just pleasure then back again as he was stretched, fingers being added until he was a writhing, blabbering mess. Feeling that he couldn't last much longer, Sherlock slid his fingers out, loving the sound of John's whimper, knowing that he would be the only one to hear the needy noises the man below him makes from now on.

Quickly coating his aching erection in lotion, causing him to moan quietly at the small amount of relief, Sherlock used one arm next to John's head to support himself, while the other guided his large length to the man's entrance.

"Tell me, John, what do you want?"

Gently pushing his tip against the heat of his lover, John moaned, barely able to get out:

"Sher-Sherlock...please...fuck me...ahh...pl-nnng...hah...please..."

At that, Sherlock slid in, John moaning in pleasure at the intense feeling. It took all of the consulting detective's will-power to not pound into that tight, velvety heat. His body trembled lightly as John adjusted.

A few minutes went by before John rolled his hips, whispering a broken, "Please." Then, Sherlock slid out so that only his tip was in, before ramming in, loving the moans and screams and cries that John released.

The two started moving in perfect unison; slamming their hips together, their skin slapping from the force, their lips meeting in harsh kisses while John wound his fingers in Sherlock's curls, tugging lightly. Their pace was feverish and needy, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

Their end started approaching very quickly, Sherlock reaching between them to pump John's member. Coils tightening more and more in their guts, John lost it first, arching his back and screaming out his lover's name, as that was the only person who he could imagine could give him such pleasure, as white strings pulsed out of him. The tightening around him was too much, and Sherlock came as well, seeing stars and a blinding white light as he filled John with his seed, yelling the man's name.

The two collapsed, Sherlock barely being able to pull out of his blogger, smiling slightly as some of his essence leaked put of John, who's eyes were half closed. They lay there, cuddling into each other, ignoring the sticky mess on their stomachs as their highs slowly faded.

They lay content for a good while, catching their breath. John was the first to say something, chuckling lightly as he said into Sherlock's chest:

"That was unexpected. What brought it on?"

Sherlock paused for a moment, knowing that he would be badly injured if he claimed that it was an experiment. Shifting slightly to see John's face, he saw love in the man's eyes. He was definitely pleased, and looked fucking adorable in his post-high daze. The taller couldn't resist kissing those beautiful lips, absentmindedly running his fingers over John's scarred shoulder.

"I've wanted to do that for a while. I just couldn't help myself with you looking all cold and adorable under the blankets."

He nuzzled John's cheek, who was surprised by the unusual affection, but didn't complain.

"I'm not 'adorable', as you say."

The man turned his head away, pointing slightly. Sherlock chuckled, the deep sound resonating through John.

"Yes, you most definitely are."

The two sighed contentedly, cuddling into each other and falling into a restful sleep.

* * *

"Ummmm...John?"

Lestrade looked at the man with slight concern, his limp back. John made his way over to the Detective Inspector, curious as to why he was called. Once he got close enough, Greg realized that the limp wasn't from an injury, at least not an unpleasant one. Smirking lightly, he stared at the blogger's throat, trying not to chuckle at the many deep purple marks littered there.

"What do you...!"

John quickly realized what his 'boss', per say, was staring at. His face flushing a deep crimson, John slapped a hand over the marks. From the corner of his eye, Lestrade saw a slightly concerned look pass over Sherlock's face from across the room, before a pleased one similar to that of a cat who finally caught it's prey.

"Not a _word_."

John mumbled a few more choice words under his breath before hobbling back to the consulting detective, who still looked quite pleased.

"Some people owe me some money."

The DI glanced at the pair once more before walking away, chuckling and shaking his head lightly.

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God, that was interesting to write. It sounds so awkward to read. I tried to type at the speed of thought, but it ended up really weird, so I had to go back and fix up what I did. It was mostly autocorrect (I did this on my iPad) and my own fast typing. I ran out of ways to refer to the two, so I ended up saying their name a million times. Ah well. I'll see you in my next fanfic! =)


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